Notes on Glass Decoration

IT is not the object of this paper to give a history of glass decoration nor the story of its revival, but to indicate simply a few leading points which call just now for public appreciation in America. The complete absorption of body and mind requisite to accomplish artistic and permanent results should be more widely understood, and the worth of the work proclaimed. No form of art can exist without beauty ; but, like flowers, and all the highest and most common of divine gifts, glass exists to express beauty first, and dignity. It demands large endowment and expenditure. Perhaps the worst thing bad art can be accused of is the making of cheap glass.

The great makers of antiquity would have been satisfied with the blaze of glory which blossomed, from the moment of the rising of the sun, upon their windows ; but the people, ever demanding a sign, sought for emblems, until, in response to their desire, came figures of saints and angels. Later, memorial windows with many figures, occasionally portraits, were introduced, until the art assumed its present vast proportions. The main fact, however, should never be lost sight of : that the glory of color, the magnificence of softened light, was, and is, the primal inspiration to the mind of the artist who works in this material.

The making of windows in mosaics of colored glass upon which figures and ornaments are painted “ is a mediæval and emphatically a Christian art.” Such windows existed in St. Sophia at Constantinople as early as the sixth century, and appear to have come into being at the same period in the two ancient basilicas of Rome, St. John Lateran and St. Peter’s. Of this period Professor J. W. Mackail says: “ The last words of the Neo-Platonic philosophy with its mystical wisdom were barely said when the Church of the Holy Wisdom rose in Constantinople, the most perfect work of art that has yet been known in organic beauty of design and splendor of ornament; and when Justinian, by his closing of the schools of Athens, marked off, as by a precise line, the end of the ancient world, in the Greek monasteries of Athos new types of beauty were being slowly wrought out which passed outward from land to land, transfiguring the face of the world as they went, kindling new life wherever they fell, miraculously transformed by the separate genius of every country from Norway to India, creating in Italy the whole of the great mediæval art that stretches from Duccio and Giotto to Signorelli, and leaving to us here, as our most precious inheritances, such mere blurred and broken fragments of their glories as the cathedral churches of Salisbury and Winchester.”

In the year 709, Wilfrid, Bishop of York, called upon the French glassworkers to make windows for his cathedral. These famous workers were a colony from Greece,— perhaps an offshoot from the very same monks of Athos who had already made the East radiant. Unhappily, their work at York was destroyed by fire; but there are still remnants of this antique period to be found at the Church of St. Remi in Rheims and elsewhere in France.

As we draw near to the thirteenth century, it becomes apparent that the ability for this particular form of art and the religious spirit which is its inspiration find a centre in Italy. During the lives of the great artists who have made Italy forever famous, the religious fervor of the people was constantly nourished by architecture, pictures, and decoration in glass. Glass decoration, in their hands, was indeed like the perfect flowering of the whole. The living flame of the spirit seemed to descend through it and transfigure arches and statues, columns and the faces of the saints painted on the walls. The splendor and the marvel of it animated all countries, and the work of these religious artists was sought far and wide ; but Italy was their home, and the secret passed away for a time with the men of genius who developed it in that period when Italy was consecrated by her great poets and artists.

The key of the wonder lay partly in the humility of the celebrated designers of that long period. They not only conceived the idea of enhancing by color the magnificence of the Christian monuments, but with their own hands, in conjunction with those of the artisan, formed and moulded the material which was to express something of the glories beheld by them with the eye of imagination.

The revival of glass decoration signifies a revival of power in the artisan. La Farge has said, in these later years : “In our work in America, if nothing else had been accomplished, I for one should feel pleased that certain artisans have been trained, owing to the difficult requirements of the profession, to a point of capacity and interest in artistic work that makes them artists without their losing the character of the workman. Of this the public can know nothing; they hear only of the artist in control, yet the foreman answers a requirement as serious as any that are met by the foremost painter of to-day, when his sure grasp of the principles of color and design allows him not only to interpret a faint sketch so as to arrange its color in proper harmonies, but also to use the theory of complementary color contrast, for the modeling of surfaces, for the difference of planes, for making any part of the design recede or advance. And that there are such artisans with us, who have been formed out of nothing, and with no previous education, is the best hope of possible advancement.”

Nevertheless, with the death of the artists who have made Italy famous glass decoration dwindled to a trade. Even the appreciation of this form of high art was so far lost that the works of the great period were allowed to decay or disappear. It is surprising how few of the antique windows are preserved in Rome. At Assisi, at Arezzo, and elsewhere examples are to be found, but too many have been lost altogether. In the old parish church at the little town of Jouarre in France is an exquisite bit of work of this old period. King David is seen playing upon his harp. It is but a fragment, yet it is one of the perfect things which remain to recall the glory of the famous time.

The skill in making glass itself, the crude material, continued to advance, in spite of the decadence of its use for the art of decoration. The workmen of France, Germany, and England vied with one another to produce the largest and clearest plates, and the “ lost art,” as it has been called, obviously owed its decline to other causes than failure of material. The whole question, when attentively observed, appears to centre in the personality of certain artists. After the beginning of the sixteenth century, and until the latter half of the nineteenth, with the exception of some sporadic achievements under a few great designers, this form of decoration made no progress. Certain developments of the early art, such as the mosaic system, disappeared altogether, while enamel painting has been preserved, especially in Germany, but resulting in very few artistic productions. The wonder is, with the work of the great masters before their eyes, and with sufficient control of the vehicles, how men could escape doing something better, during this long interval.

Even in restoring the ruin time and storm have wrought upon the old glass, and where the new glass is to stand side by side with the great examples, the botching done would be hard to credit if it were not in constant evidence.

A few celebrated artists appeared during the dark period, under whose direction memorable work was achieved ; among them, and not the least, may be mentioned Jervais, who executed the designs of Sir Joshua Reynolds. It is interesting to recall the personal oversight given by Reynolds to engravers working after his pictures ; and we can well believe that his care in this respect did not slacken while the vast labor by Jervais in putting up the great east window of New College, Oxford, was going forward.

Clearly, the degradation of the art of decoration with colored glass came about when the idea began to prevail that the artisan who can handle his tools is alone requisite to accomplish artistic results; when, on the other hand, the preraphaelite movement originated in England under the imaginative men whose influence swept over the modern world, and when in the United States an impulse began to be felt toward original artistic expression, the old vehicles were sought, having themselves long borne witness to their power of responding to the highest requisitions.

At the time La Farge commenced his work in New York there was very little proper material to be found in America, and almost no educated workmen. Nevertheless, the artist was ready; great churches were springing up around him, inviting decoration; the architect was calling for interior artistic assistance which would supplement and complete his idea; and La Farge, still young and hardly determined in his own mind as to the especial form of art to which he should finally devote himself, was animated to test his ability in order to effect harmony in the interiors already begun.

It was impossible for him to lay his hand upon the necessary glass ; foreign glass was difficult to command, but the idea had taken possession of his mind, and he was not daunted. It was his habit to buy all the objects of opaline glass he could find, and any others which suited his purpose, and shatter them to produce the desired effects ; he also pressed gems and stones, Japanese metals, and whatever could further his work, into the service of decoration. Even with larger provision of material the work is most laborious and troublesome ; the necessity falls upon the artist not only of making the design and adapting it to the heavy lines of lead in which the various shapes of glass must be set, but of plating and fusing, enameling and painting, and turning each morsel of color, to get from it the highest effect, — sometimes putting more than a thousand pieces into a foot square, as may be occasionally requisite. The impediments are beyond the conception of any but the artist who is striving to accomplish results which may be won with such vehicles alone. He dreams by night and by day of the colors which float before his vision; but by day he must also work with his own hand, melting, combining, altering, until he can assure his men that they may take the glass out of his hand, perfect the surfaces, and make the work permanent.

These general notes are by way of prelude to the consideration of a new and significant work in modern glass, by Mrs. Whitman, lately placed in Memorial Hall, Harvard University. It is a piece of decoration which fulfills many of the great requisitions. In spite of peculiar difficulties arising from the construction of the window, the heavy mullions of which were placed in position long before occasion arose for the present work, a harmony has been achieved by keeping the tone of color very low, which is a beauty in itself, since nothing is lost in brilliancy or intensity, and only so much is sacrificed as could well be spared. We are reminded, of course, of the accusation brought against the mediæval glassmakers, — that light was too much shut out by their decorations ; but, as we have seen, the conditions of the Cambridge window were imperative. The exquisite light in La Farge’s Infant Samuel and the Angel of Help is not unknown in Mrs. Whitman’s smaller pieces, and a second large decoration, under freer conditions, will doubtless find her reveling in the pleasure of higher and fuller light.

This window stands, nevertheless, as a noble and sufficient testament, and one worthy of all consideration. It was primarily intended as a monument to the sons of Harvard who died in the war against slavery, and was projected as such by the donor, Martin Brimmer, “ alumnus, fellow, and perpetual benefactor ” of the university. While the window was in progress Martin Brimmer died, and the work at once became also a memorial to his name. It is a monument not only to the soldiers, forever young, but to the noble life of one of Massachusetts’ most lamented citizens. The rose window blossomed into peculiar radiance, the violet hues in their soft glory and the ruby of the heart bringing tears to the eyes of those who look at it for the first time. On either side of the rose angels appear, each holding one end of the scroll, on which is inscribed in Latin, “ Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to Thy Name be the Glory.” Every thought of the giver, of the maker, of those who lost their lives in battle or who have gone on to other spheres,—the long battle of life being ended,—is merged, while looking at the splendor of the rose, in the one thought of praise and adoration. The song of color, the song of light, the song of faith, — they are one with the song of eternal joy, eternal beauty, eternal peace, as imaged in the unspeakable shining which falls on the human heart.

The whole work should be more properly considered, however, from below upward, beginning with the idea of the donor, from whose wishes the decoration sprang, and in whose memory the following inscription runs across the foundation : “ Martinus Brimmer, alumnus, socius, donum dedit 1829-1896.”

The middle panel dedicates the window to the soldiers in whose honor it was projected, saying in Latin : “ The men whose names are written on these walls laid down their lives in ardent youth or vigorous prime that the republic might live. Ye living, who reap the fruit of their sacrifice, live as they died, to make men freer, happier, and more united.”

Two figures representing the soldier and the scholar give dignity and significance to the lower half of the window. These serious and spirited forms are set in frames of green, which suggest growth and youth and perpetual springtime. However brilliant with many colors the spaces are in which they stand, the prevailing sense is of the living green of nature.

Above these figures are four angels bearing what may be called the standards of conduct which animate the ideal scholar and soldier. The words Love, Honor, Courage, Patience, are inscribed thereon.

Finally comes the great rose, of color unspeakable.

We recognize afresh to-day, by the examples to which we have alluded, that glass is now used as a decoration in the most distinguished positions. It is again one of the first accessories to the highest forms of architectural work, and brought into connection with the most sacred associations and memories of humanity. Less than almost any other means of expression can it afford to descend to the trivial, the grotesque, the startling, the merely commonplace. As Flaubert has said of the best work in letters : “ Ce n’est pas de faire rire, ni de faire pleurer, ni de vous mettre en fureur, mais d’agir la façon de la nature, c’est à dire de faire rêver.”

Why is it, men ask nowadays, that Rheims and Chartres and Bourges, Rouen, Cologne, and Antwerp, and many cathedrals in Italy and England are looked upon and visited as shrines, however remote they may be from the path of the traveler ? Is it not, in large measure, because of

And why, although we in America choose new shrines, memorial halls, chapels, libraries, public buildings, for decoration, instead of churches only, as of old, — why should we not more generally recognize the difficulties and the seriousness of our modern labor ? It is much to know that we have at this hour, in America, artists who stand in the front rank of the world’s workers. Their impediments in the past have been far too great, yet not greater, perhaps, than in modern England, where some of the fine windows of Burne-Jones have also suffered from architecture unsuited to them. A better period appears to open, a time when architect, artist, and artisan will understand their natural and close relation each to each. Such a result will again produce the harmony which in early centuries brought forth the monuments we worship.

In one of the old translations of the Sermon on the Mount it is written, “ Blessed are the beggars for light.” It was the spirit of this saying which blossomed in the windows through which the sun rays fell upon the early worshipers.

The religious spirit of our own age is taking on new life, and finding many and beautiful manifestations. One expression of this new spirit shines in the light that falls through emblems and holy figures imaged upon resplendent windows in our sacred places.

Annie Fields.